


When my heart's torn and all of my lungs sore

by TotemundTabu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Ramsay is his own warning, break up mention, past!thramsay, unprofessional medical flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11371074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: for Randomlut: imagine an AU fanfic, Theon before Reek when he get all flirty and stuff and Theon post Reek, re-appears in the hospital (after been abducted for a year) told by the same nurse - THROBB - Robb is a very unprofessional nurse :P





	When my heart's torn and all of my lungs sore

** _When my heart's torn and all of my lungs sore_ **

 

* * *

 

_January, 10_ _th_

 

Robb yawned, closing and reopening his eyes slowly.

He clenched his jaw and sighed, forcing himself to wake up and focus on the patient list in front of him.

Outside the hospital, snow kept falling, silent and sly. “White motherfucker...”, Robb thought, exhausted, seeing the sky drowning in white flakes that would have most definitely brought to the hospital other people.

After two car crashes, a drunk dude who went sledding outside of his window, a series of poor half-frozen homeless people and an uncountable number of children and high-heeled women who slipped on ice getting from the slightest bruise – accompanied though by a side dish of over protective and worried moms with no concept of “there are other forty people waiting” – to a various tuttifrutti mix of concussions, broken legs and back injuries, Robb just wanted to sleep. He didn't hit the bed since so long he almost forgot the sensation of the mattress under himself.

He started needing a serious break, something more than a coffee chugged down while peeing.

“Jeyne. - he mumbled, seeing his colleague – Do you mind if I go to smoke a moment, can you manage?”

Her brown Bambi eyes were the portrait of pure panic.

Robb sighed and shook his head, “It's fine, it's fine. - then glanced at her folder – But you take the next mom.”

She glanced, “And you take the next flirty ass.”

Robb blinked.

“Why do I never get the flirty ones?”, he almost whined, fatigue straining his voice, making it hoarse.

Jeyne chuckled, “Something along the lines of the amount of straight people in the world, Robb.”

Robb pouted, “Fine, I take the next one with tentacle hands.”

Jeyne curled up her lips and gave him a small folder, “Room 4. If I hear another sex joke, I don't grant his immunity.”

Robb took the folder with the x-ray and some notes Jeyne wrote about the leg of the patient.

“Friendly reminder you swore not to kill people. - he mumbled, half-smiling, before kissing her forehead – I take him, don't worry.”

Jeyne smiled, “Thank you, Robb, after this one, I promise, you can get a break.”

Robb nodded, without too much attention, and headed to the room 4.

“Theon Greyjoy?”, he asked, looking at the patient.

That guy whistled, as if he saw something he liked, “Is all the personnel of this hospital hot stuff? - he winked – If this is between the requirements, I may start coming here more often.”

Robb blinked.

What.

Jeyne warned him on the flirt but... he didn't expect this one to keep on. He scrubbed away a certain embarrassed satisfaction in being complimented, coughed to clear his voice and returned to stare at the folder.

“Mister Greyjoy...”

“Theon. - he corrected him – Mister Greyjoy is my father.”

Robb stared.

It's not like he didn't appreciate, somehow. The boy was cute, real cute. Wide smug smile, nice chin, big shoulders... a broken leg. He had to focus on the leg.

“You... broke your tibia and your fibula, consider yourself lucky it's not open, you risked it.”

Theon sighed deeply and pouted.

“Don't scold me so harshly... - Theon said between a grin and a wink – I don't like mean.”

“This may need a surgical plate. The tibia heals slowly... often poorly. - he looked at Theon's folder – I hope at least there was a good reason for skiing with snow still falling.”

Theon raised an eyebrow and pouted his lips.

“...is the grumpy bear part of your usual charm? - he asked, with a pitch slightly lower and more serious – Because it fits poor unnaturally.”

“It's a boot-top facture.”, Robb replied, ignoring the comment before.

“Well, usually my booty doesn't top but...”

Robb opened and closed his eyes, wondering if he heard well or if he was hallucinating, “...did my colleague give you morphine, by any chance?”

“No. - he chuckled – My jokes just get dorkier the less result I see.”

Robb felt the corner of his mouth lift and sucked his lips, then mumbling, “Then, I suppose it would be in my interest to humour you a bit.”

Theon snorted, “Sure. - he glanced at his bruised and swollen leg – Just tell me I don't have to cut it.”

Robb smiled, tender, and examined leg and x-ray closely. 

“If the boot is excessively rigidly fixed to the ski and the binding does not release, both bones snap just above the boot-top. - Robb explained, kindly, caressing the leg to control it once more – Are you allergic at some component or can I give you a pain killer?”

“Paracetamol the shit out of me, please.”

Robb snorted. The boy was funny, he hated to admit.

As he looked again, closer, he looked even prettier.

“You're a very resistant man, usually people complain a lot with this type of thing.”

“I'm a man.”

“I'm too. - Robb pointed out – But I still whine when I get sick. - he gave Theon a small dose of painkiller – You shouldn't ski when it's not in good conditions.”

Theon sighed, groaning, “It was a bet.”

“A bet?”, Robb chuckled.

Oh god, he recognized his own chuckle.

Girly, weak. He was liking him. Fuck.

“For a girl. - Theon admitted, rolling his eyes – I might have being... getting a bit too confident and...”

“You wanted to impress a girl.”, Robb now was shaking his head, genuinely amused. His smile was bright.

Theon's eyes shone.

He won. He was not sure why he'd care about winning a smile, but he did...

“Look, I'll make you some extra questions and then I'll send you to the Orthopaedics division, okay? - Robb said smiling, taking back his pen – Blood type?”

“AB -.”, Theon mumbled, in a yawn.

Robb blinked, “Well, the rarest one.”

Theon grinned, “Are you calling me special?”

Robb laughed, “Now, now, you said that.”

“Well, I know I am special. - he raised his eyebrows – For each question you ask can I ask one in return?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”, Robb promised himself to try to sound controlled but a laugh came out of him and the smile on his lips was too honest.

Theon leaned on his hand palm, “Your name?”

“Robb. - he said – Do you need my blood type too?”

“I don't know. - he mumbled – Could be useful to know.”

“A+.”

“Like your face. - Theon observed, serious – If you twirl I can tell you if the behind matches.”

Robb stared, between amused and outraged.

“You're being a bit forward.”

“I wouldn't be, if you didn't like it.”, Theon pointed out in a smirk, biting his bottom lip. His black eyes nailed Robb's glance on them.

Robb felt embarrassed realizing how transparent he must had been and he swallowed, “Well, my colleague didn't appreciate it.”

“Uh? - he blinked – I didn't hit on her?”

Robb frowned, “What?”

“She... is not really my... - he moved his hands in circle before his chest – My type.”

Robb took a moment to remember straight and bi men seemed to have an odd preference for women with big breast generally. How to forget.

He squinted his eyes.

Sly little Jeyne Westerling... she knew he liked black haired guys with lean bodies …

“So. - Theon smirked – You _do_ like it.”

Robb tried not to show a certain happiness, failing, and licked his lips before playing a bit with the pen, “Were you operated other times or do you have a family history with some major disease like...”

“Please, don't start those giant listing of things. - Theon snorted – Everyone is even too healthy in my family. Sadly, I may add.”

“Fine... - he tried to settle for that, then he forced himself not to raise his eyes and see Theon again or he was not sure he would have ever unglued his eyes and, possibly, his tongue – Emergency contact?”

“I still didn't ask my question.”, Theon pointed out.

Robb scoffed, “Ok, shoot.”

“Are you single?”

Robb bit his lips but a smile rose from the hems, slowly, rebelling.

“You're a patient...”

“Just until you send me up to Orthopaedics, technically.”, Theon mumbled, his look by then riding the nurse boy, trying to imagine the chest under the absurdly minty green of the uniform , glancing at the big arms, at the ginger curls, at the hips.

Robb shook his head, “Sexual history?”

“Epic.”, Theon replied, with the lowest, most honeyed voice, his eyes set on Robb's lips.

Robb chocked, swallowed and looked away. 

“Is there something relevant for the form or not?”

Theon frowned and raised an eyebrow, “If I reply in detail will you give me your number?”

Robb cursed himself.

A cute boy was flirting with him, heavily, probably a bit too heavy for some people, but for someone like him, secretly insecure, was not a bad sensation. He liked him.

And he was funny.

And he kept cracking jokes while his leg probably still hurt.

… and the way his smile arched up, making the smallest dimple in the face – that somehow dig up his stomach and made him feel all empty and naked.

“We will see. - he said, with a soft smile – I don't like cocky.”

Theon blinked, seeing through it.

“Oh. - he curled up his lips – So what do you like: a romantic dinner?”

“Maybe. - Robb seemed to consider it, smiling – That could be nice.”

“What about hospital cuisine? - he grinned, his eyes half-lidded, a dreamy look gawking at Robb – What does the menu have today?”

Robb laughed and moved closer, “Not until you get dismissed.”

Theon's eyes were still on Robb's neck and jaw, when Robb crossed the pace between them, sitting next to him on the bed and taking the stethoscope out of a pocket.

“I have to take your heartbeat and pressure. - he said – They didn't seem to have taken them immediately, just the temperature. I'm sorry, today we had a lot of...”

“Stop blabbing.”

Robb looked beyond the stethoscope and realized how intensely Theon was looking at him. How nice he was.

“If you have to see me shirtless. - Theon pointed out, glancing at the stethoscope – The minimum you should do is coming to my room at seven for an insipid, flavourless, hospital dinner.”

His voice was charming, his smirk suggestive.

Robb groaned, against himself, “I'll just come to check on you.”

His hands moved to Theon's shirt but, instead of taking it off, he just moved it enough to hear the heartbeat.

Theon sucked his lips, eager.

His nurse was really sweet, getting so awkward over a bit flirting.

Robb took the beats, then measured Theon's pressure, keeping his arm gently between his hands, almost caressing it.

Theon felt his stomach clench in a romantic tantrum.

He would have wanted to actually kiss him, he could have.. The space was enough. But he knew he always went a bit beyond the line.

He didn't plan to make him run away. He just enjoyed seeing he liked him too.

And Robb's eyes looked at him so tenderly.

“Is it too late to ask for a kiss on the booboo?”

Robb raised an eyebrow, then said, forcing himself in a monotonous pitch to hide a cheerful wish, a flattered pliability, a gentle lust, “If tonight you give me your pudding.”

Theon grinned.

 

* * *

 

_November, 5_ _th_

 

“Robb, hey. - Jeyne came close to him and held his arm – Did I do something wrong?”

Robb sighed, rolled the eyes to the ceiling and made an effort not to get annoyed.

She meant no harm. But still.

“Jeyne, you need to stop organizing me dates behind my back. - he smiled, weakly – I'm fine.”

“You're not. - she pouted – And I feel guilty.”

“You couldn't have known...”, Robb mumbled, pretending to shrug it off.

Jeyne genuinely just saw a cute boy and thought it was going to be nice for him to have a fling.

She couldn't now one day Theon would have disappeared from the face of the earth and never call back. He even changed mobile number. From... nothing?

Robb even went mad for a while, searching for him. He got ghosted out, after some of the best dates – and best sex – he ever had. Well, evidently it was just his view.

And yet it still burnt.

Stomach aching and embers in his throat, the sense of humiliation and the bitterness still burned up inside him. And he promised himself multiple times to stop caring.

To stop hoping to see him again.

To stop waiting for a phone call, an explanation, an apology. A kiss.

A kiss would have been enough. And he hated himself for that.

Despite months having passed, almost a year by then, he didn't manage to get over it and Jeyne started to try to help him, uselessly, and, in a way, making it worse. He'd just remember she did organize that first meet.

He wished he'd just know when he stopped to matter.

When he started to be boring or naggy or clingy or... whatever he had been. When did he become just plain opaque glass and stopped being crystal, shards of light.

He wished he'd knew why he couldn't stop seeing him as that, as the eclipse of chaos, as embers in the night, as a charm more ancient and profound than anything in the world.

It meant so much and it put roots so deep.

At times, when he got cut at work or when he scratched his knees in a fall during jogging, he'd stare, surprised, confused for a moment that there was blood in him – like in all other people, the ones he visited every day. He was not sure which substance Theon was made of, but after months, there he was, feeling or filled up to the brink by that or just more simply drained out and he left nothing.

Nothing at all.

And he hated that.

He hated that nothing seed to be left of him since he had gone.

Jeyne gave him a soft, sad look, “I promise Sam is adorable! He's such a cutie pie and he's a bookworm, not really one to cheat on you or go away... and...”

“I don't feel like going out with someone else, Jey. - Robb said, half a plead half a yell, a croak, all-choked; he saw her look change, her heart tense, the guilt eat her out to the core and he felt so bad, so horrible it burnt his brain white – It's not your fault, I just... I don't feel like it, don't worry.”

Jeyne nodded, sucking her lips.

She caressed his cheek and sighed, “Okay, sorry.”

“Interrupting something?”

As Jon arrived, the two of them turned and Robb whispered at Jeyne, “Why don't you fix up Jon with your friend? He is way more desperate than I am.”

Jeyne frowned, Jon groaned and raised his eyebrows.

“I have a patient I wish you could see. - Jon said, looking suddenly distressed as if he remembered something disgusting enough to make him puke – I, I can't get his name, he seems unstable, he is terrified and...”

Robb blinked, “They sent him directly to you without padding for the ER?”

“He... - Jon sighed, looked away – He brought in a girl, on...Wednesday, I think, you were off the clock, she had been operated for some lesions and a vaginal injury. He came to visit her today, they noticed he had scars. He wore gloves but...”

He glanced at Jeyne and she moved away. Robb frowned.

“But...?”

Jon sighed deeply, “He lost a shoe. He missed some toes and it didn't look like a surgeon's work.”

Robb looked confused, “Why do you want me to come?”

“You're like the most soothing person ever. - he admitted, with a sting of jealousy – You always make them feel at their ease, and... he's not fine. I wanted to call the psychiatrician but he went home two hours ago.”

Robb nodded, taking the patient folder from Jon, “I'll take a look.”

As he went, he wondered if he would have gone mad too, hadn't he had Jeyne or Jon or his siblings.

He wondered if that guy had a psychosis, if he was an addict, if he... if he stopped taking pills.

He saw that often: kids getting treated but being alone, no family, no real friends, and they'd get forgotten and then forget themselves, stop taking care, feeling ashamed to depend on chemistry.

As if, we, we all, ourselves weren't just chemistry.

From the top of the hair to the sole of our feet.

He walked through the corridor wondering, dreaming, guessing – out of the door of Jon's visit room, he found himself lost in the memory of black thick hair soft as silk.

And then white.

White – dry, dirty, dingy white.

A man skinny as a bone. His shoulders were large but the clothes didn't fit him well and he looked like a scarecrow. He had a beautiful face ruined by his absolute sickly thinness, unnaturally big bags under the eyes as purple as a the cloak of night, and scars. He wore gloves but from the movement, Robb could see he didn't have some fingers.

He stank of wine and dirt. He probably lived in the streets.

Robb came close to him, with a soft smile, tired eyes, “Hey...”

That man rose his eyes and, as he saw Robb, he froze. His lips, thin and scarred, quivered. He missed some teeth. He made a crooked sound, like a door with wood so rotten it's about to turn to dust.

And then he turned his face, hiding it from the sight and Robb could barely see it; then again the face was half covered in shit and dirt and blood and scabs and...

Robb sat next to him. It, he, reminded him of someone.

“Is Jeyne okay?”

He blinked.

“Jeyne? - he repeated, slower, as if he thought that maybe the lack of teeth made his words hard to guess – My friend.”

Robb nodded, blinking. Unsure how to process.

The voice crept through his ears, like light through broken glass.

“Jon said she's fine. - he lied – You can see it after I check you.”

“He'll find us. - he breathed, he looked away, stubbornly –I have to take her away.”

“He who?”, Robb asked.

He shouldn't have touched him.

Not without gloves.

But he did. Kindly. He put his hand over his arm and smiled, softly, hoping he'd turn and see it.

“What's your name?”

A chuckle.

And his stomach clenched.

That chuckle sounded so different and yet the colour at the bottom was the same – as dusted or scratched sapphires lose none of their blue.

A chuckle so bitter and so sweet – Robb learnt to love it.

“Am I so ruined you can't see me?”

“Th... - Robb's eyes widened, he felt his heart stop beating – Theon?”

Anger. Tiredness. Fear. Shock. Love. Love. Love.

Anger. Surprise. Sadness.

Happiness.

Void.

“...Theon?”, he repeated, his eyes running all over Theon's body and face, trying to get a glimpse of the past appearance.

He recognized the cheekbones, the nose, just now more prominent. He recognized the ghost of the hands under the consuming paleness. And the sharp bones and the famine drenched in sadness.

Theon kept his head still, not looking at him. Robb made him turn, forced his hands on his cheeks and twisted it just enough.

His thumbs sunk into the scarred flesh of the cheeks – he was so skinny that Robb could see the sunk where the void in the skull was.

Theon's eyes shone with a trembling gleam.

Horror for himself, horror for what Robb would have thought.

“What happened?”, he just whispered.

Theon looked away, but Robb clenched his face, keeping him still, this time.

Theon swallowed.

“You're going to think I'm weak.”

“Strength is the last of the things I care for.”, Robb replied, almost abruptly.

Even thought at first he didn't recognize him, now he couldn't stop seeing Theon, all of him, and it overwhelmed him in fear and joy all together. Every emotion tasted the same with Theon: the bitter, the sweet, the sour, the salty, everything tasted like colours, drenching from a saturated canvas, bleeding out and staining the entire world in the most beautiful indigo.

There was nothing tenderer, nothing more intense.

And that's why he couldn't detox.

How do you detox from feeling, finally, the world at its fullest?

Robb could see Theon's Adam's apple jumping high and nervous. He could see a startled wish in his eyes.

Theon wetted his lips quickly. He had a big scar in the middle of his lip, as if someone bit through it. A human or an animal dressed as one.

“Do you hate me...?”, Theon asked.

Robb couldn't find in himself the strength to keep a dignity.

“I can't. - he stared at Theon's face, until he decided to reciprocate, slowly – What happened?”

Theon sighed.

“A guy, he kept me... and Jeyne too.”

Robb frowned, “Kept... you?”

Theon nodded, weakly. He bit his lips, but only some teeth appeared from the gum. Then there were voids.

His eyes were dim and yet, they were the same dark, mesmerizing pools.

And Robb hated himself for thinking that, for having his heart beat and cry for a lover, instead than his mind focusing on a patient.

He hated he'd want to kiss him before heal him.

He forced himself to look at his gloved hand, the blue blood-stained wool looked dirty and not soft.

Robb took the hand in his own and took the glove away slowly.

Fingers missing whole. Scars big and thick, red and white. Wrinkles, cracks, trenches.

“What did he do to you...?”

Theon closed his eyes, welcomed his breath.

His voice trembled, “I tried to escape...”

Robb held him tight, kept his hands closely cradled between his own.

Seeing the scars threw his guts in the gutter and he looked at Theon with the eyes wet in what Theon couldn't say if it was pity or anger.

“I will have to order some exams...”

“You don't have to. - Theon tried to yell, but his voice was just hoarse, and halfway through the sentence it failed him, and seemed just afraid – You can just leave me here.”

“You're not an object to leave aside.”, Robb grumbled, sighed.

He seemed upset, Theon guessed with him and lowered his head.

And yet Robb couldn't stop wanting to slap himself.

Why did he stop searching?

Why did he abandon Theon?

How dared he think he was the abandoned one?

He shook his head and licked his dry lips, looking around and yet not focusing his eyes on anything. “Come home with me,”, he said, with the voice weak and unfocused, looking away.

Theon frowned.

“Shouldn't I stay here?”

Robb shook his head, “I'll speak to Jon. Your wounds look... old. I can treat that at home, I don't want to keep you here.”

Theon chuckled, sour.

The sharp edges of his smirk cut his empty cheeks.

“You don't want them to see you with me?”

Robb raised an eyebrow. He tried to keep himself at distance: his stomach burnt with anxiety and yet he wanted to push him against the wall, kiss him.

He saw a deep mark on the neck, like scratches over bruised over a cut.

He remembered all the times he held him down there, fucking, on how sweet was the purple of those bruises, sugary as red plums in august.

And how bitter was that yellow, that green and greyish lilac.

He wondered if that man... he didn't dare to ask. If he cut away fingers, sure he had no issue fucking him, but he didn't want to realize up to which point he failed him.

… he hated him for months.

He thought he was guilty for something he couldn't be blamed for.

His guts drenched in darkness.

“I want to take you a shower. - he said, simply, trying to sound as soft as he could, while loathing himself to no end – And check there is no infection anywhere. - he looked away – But I have no way to grant you privacy here.”

Theon blinked, raising his head.

“... you are worried for me?”

Robb glanced at Theon's lips, Theon noticed but didn't dare to speak.

Robb gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw and was about to say something, when Theon interrupted him.

“...can I see Jeyne before?”

Robb hated what he dared to think. How rotten had his pride or brain have to be for him to be suddenly jealous of-

Theon tried to stand up, but flinched, letting out a pained moan.

“I, I'm all she has now. - he whispered – I promised not to leave her.”

You also promised not to leave me, Robb thought. Cursing himself for it.

Theon looked at him, “She also wants to know if she's pregnant. And if she is, I can't leave her with that...”

Robb swallowed.

“Jon said... she has an inner lesion, if she had been pregnant, they would have noticed.”

Theon flinched. His eyes filled up just with the reflection of the void.

And Robb found himself wondering if Theon was reassured or also, in a way, jealous.

“You'll meet her tomorrow, for now... - he moved closer to him, take his face between his fingers, lifting gently the chin – For now, we have to focus on you, okay?”

Theon raised an eyebrow.

Robb let out a small smile, “The Theon I knew always made sure to look at his best when meeting someone pretty.”

Theon didn't smile.

But the corner of his mouth titled up, giving the softest hint of amusement.

 

* * *

 

 

_November 6_ _th_

 

Robb parked slowly. Theon looked outside of the window almost fascinated, enraptured, and although he couldn't understand why, he didn't want to disrupt that look, filled with awe for simple lamplights, for mere skyscrapers and pavements.

He waited for Theon to turn towards him for turning off the car.

“Do you want me to carry you?”

Theon blinked, confused.

Robb glanced at his feet, “I don't think four floors of stairs are the best idea for those feet.”

Theon seemed hurt at that.

Right. Of course. What did he hope for?

He nodded, but he whispered “No, I'm fine” and stepped out of the car without looking at Robb a moment longer.

Robb followed him, without forcing help, even if every time Theon flinched, he almost moved behind him, unaware, to his waist or hip, to help. He just gained scared looks and a elbow hit in his stomach with a clumsy mortified “sorry” after.

When he opened the door, he hoped for Theon to calm down, instead he kept staring at the door or opening and closing the windows for minutes, making sure there were exits. Robb started feeling nervous: was he not enough safety? And why, if he got kidnapped like that, was Theon not now counting on him somehow?

He found himself selfishly wishing for Theon to consider him a safe place, until he realized once again that he didn't save him. He didn't do anything.

Of course Theon wouldn't feel safe around him.

He was no knight in shining armour, not prince came to the rescue. He was a stupid nurse.

He sighed, “I'll prepare a bath, lukewarm. - he mumbled, standing up – Maybe... you should undress, so i can check your wounds before.”

Theon seemed terrified at the idea.

And that burnt.

“I won't do you anything.”, Robb half roared, offended.

Only as Theon's eyes widened he realized that was exactly what he feared.

He was not implying he would have hurt him, he was implying he would have felt pity. And he just ended up confirming it out of pride. He was an idiot.

He swallowed, “...not unless or until you feel like it.”

Theon seemed to soften the tension on his shoulders, he even gave out a small smile, then his eyes fell on his own body.

“... can I keep the underwear on?”

Robb breathed in, “If he didn't...- then realize it must have had and corrected himself – If you need to.”

Theon nodded.

Taking off his gloves was hard enough – the grey dry wool would always sting against his scars. His stomach hurt, stinging, a dagger of memory cutting through it.

Ramsay once tried to make him eat one of his fingers. He cooked it, and didn't serve him anything else for a week.

Theon couldn't bear himself to eat it.

The sweet smell of his own skin, gently fried, the scent of pig, almost. It didn't look much like a finger, not id own specifically, at least. He could have had.

What stopped him was the idea of having it in his stomach, to digest it, to have it exit from him. He puked every time he tried to eat it.

And where it was cut, he still felt it on.

He buried it behind a brick, where ants and cockroaches ate it.

Ramsay was so pleased in seeing no finger and a lot of vomit, that the night served him real food.

He took of his coat, the torn blouse, the ragged pants. His skin was a universe with constellation of scars – a cut there, the sign of some chicken scissors there, a nail cradle, the womb dug by dog teeth, the crown drawn by a cigarette bum.

He wondered if Robb felt like puking too, seeing that.

Instead, Robb moved closer, helped him with the pants, since his hands made it hard to do it, caressed the feet, checked the legs. He avoided looking him in the face.

Theon knew he was ashamed: his ears were red, his jaw clenched. But which shame had he to hold?

Robb swallowed, making Theon sit on the bed.

“I'll put some stuff in the water, to help soften the skin. I'll disinfect you before and after. - he tried to keep speaking coldly, but his apple was umping, his lips quivering and his eyes were stubbornly away – If you need to use the toilet, if you need help, I'll clean you.”

Theon bit his lips.

“I'm not a child.”

“I didn't mean that...”

Robb was not looking at him again and Theon felt his pain coming up in, in tides of nausea and shame.

“I didn't ask you to help me, if you're so grossed out, stop acting like a martyr.”

Robb now turned to him.

“I'm not grossed out, Theon.”

“Then what?”, he almost spit.

He was angry. He was not in months.

Robb's eyes trembled and he breathed in weakly.

“I was useless. - Robb chuckled out – I couldn't help... like with dad.”

Theon looked at him, now softly. He caressed Robb's cheek with a hand, and for once the scars didn't hurt.

Theon looked so firm and sure that for a moment, he seemed like no day passed.

“Without you existing, I would have bit my tongue or hang myself with my bowels, Robb. - he let out a small snort – It seems like quite the difference.”

“I couldn't save you.”

“You did. - he insisted, trying to pull Robb down on the bed with him, but failing for lack of strength – And that way Jeyne is okay too...”

Robb looked down on him.

“He hurt you. How can I forgive myself?”

Theon chuckled.

“And I thought I was the drama queen. - he pouted – Don't make it about you, Robbie.”

Robb smiled.

He sat on the bed next to him and his hands moved to Theon's boxers, on the rim on the hips, gently, moving on it.

“Did he hurt you there?”

Theon shook his head, “He threatened me to. Often. - he swallowed up – But I'm not... proud of what I accepted to do to keep him from it.”

Robb clenched his jaw, moved his hands to Theon's face and cupped the skinny cheeks.

“Pleasing someone to survive is not something you should be ashamed for.”

The raw blue of his eyes almost seemed honest.

Theon smiled, “You do still have an A+ face.”

“You too. - Robb replied, then, seeing Theon didn’t believe him, insisted – I mean it, you just need some food and to be taken care of. I promise, we had people looking worse.”

Theon smiled, shaking his face, “I'll need fake teeth.”

Robb bit his lips and Theon saw his cheek lifting up and his eyes gleam.

“I missed you...”, he admitted, low-voiced.

Theon glanced at him., “I'm not back though... not like you'd like me.”

Robb snorted, “You always worry so much about the wrong things: breaking your legs to impress girls, who already like you.”

Theon frowned, “Kyra didn't li... - he paused – Oh.”

Robb caressed the white hair, “I'll fix you a bath and take care of you. And not out of pity.”

“Sexy nurse syndrome?”, Theon asked, almost joking, hoping to hear it out.

Robb kissed his forehead.

“I'll make you pudding, so you can eat something soft.”

 

* * *

 

 

_January 6_ _th_

 

Robb yawned, closing and reopening his eyes slowly.

Theon rolled in bed, getting close to him, curling up next to him.

A blissful smile on his lips, like a cat in the summer sun, bathing in the light.

 


End file.
